


Remember That Night?

by Metanoiac



Series: Twitter Requests [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, Drunken Flirting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29467854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metanoiac/pseuds/Metanoiac
Summary: A drunken Brainstorm boldly makes his move on Whirl.(It slips Brainstorm's mind that they're already in a relationship.)
Relationships: Brainstorm/Whirl (Transformers)
Series: Twitter Requests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153214
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Remember That Night?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllieVRoboGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieVRoboGirl/gifts).



> First time writing this pairing! I am new to writing both of these characters so I dearly hope I did well.
> 
> For the request: Brainstorm flirting with Whirl, who gets flustered but likes it.

“Hasn't he had enough?” A worried patron queries.

“No, no.” Swerve is quick to present the overcharged scientist with another glass. “On the house,” he promises, mischief stirring behind his visor. Brainstorm gives a lopsided smile and gives Swerve the worst finger guns he's ever seen in his life.

Brainstorm’s confidence soars when he approaches Whirl. He's faintly aware that he really shouldn't drink this much and he'd have long fallen over his own pedes had his wings not provided him balance. But his processor sings, and rationality is just an afterthought. 

He finds the mech at one of the tables pushed to the far corner, all by himself.

 _Perfect_. 

Brainstorm makes his move.

.

Whirl watches Brainstorm’s less than linear approach out of his peripheral vision. The scientist drops down in the chair opposite him with less grace than intended. He’s overcharged, Whirl knows that much. 

_Which makes it all the more entertaining_.

He inconspicuously eavesdrops on the conversation taking place by Swerve’s bar, cranking up his audials. 

“-I dared him,” Someone says. The voice isn’t distinct enough for Whirl to make out who it belongs to, but enough to catch bits and pieces.

“-Sure he- understand? They’re- item-”

Interference. Whirl distantly registers Brainstorm talking to him and gives up on trying to catch what kind of bet they placed. He figures it’s something to do with Brainstorm’s tab, as is common with Swerve, especially on relatively uneventful days. 

He focuses his vision on the mech opposite him. Brainstorm has his elbows on the table and is leaning in, supporting his helm on shaky servos. The fact he’s without his mask speaks volumes about his intoxication. Whirl for once praises being without a mouth, internally grinning at Brainstorm’s… _predicament_. He tunes out the background noise and listens to the scientist talk.

“-Really like you,” Brainstorm says. The clarity in his voice is surprising, but Whirl vaguely recalls the scientist working on something that nullifies the effects of high-grade.

Well, at least it’s _partially_ functional. 

“Oh, you do?” Whirl presses. The nice thing to do is to stop this before it gets chaotic, of course. There’s just one tiny detail: Whirl _thrives_ in chaos. He leans in too, scrutinizing Brainstorm under his watchful optic. He doesn’t miss how Brainstorm’s cheeks dust a light purple entirely unrelated to his overcharged state. “What do you like about me?” 

“Easy!” Brainstorm proclaims with a surge of confidence. He makes a grand gesture that requires him to lift an arm, very nearly knocking him off his balance entirely. By some miracle he manages, jabbing a digit at Whirl. “Your color. Color’s nice.” 

“My-?!” 

“Shhshshs.” Brainstorm shoves his servo in Whirl’s optic, obscuring his vision. Regardless of whether or not he obliges, Brainstorm continues. “It- it brings out your optic. Nice ‘n yellow. Very striking. And, uh, your pinchers… are strong. Unique. _Uniquely_ yours. Like it when you grab me around my waist, so strong…” Brainstorm sighs dreamily. _Dreamily_. Whirl’s spark skips a beat.

Brainstorm isn’t finished. Given his profession as a scientist Whirl believes he’ll be spared the embarrassment of _emotional compliments_ , but nooo. All reservations are thrown out of the metaphorical window and Whirl’s current predicament is less the aftermath of Brainstorm’s indulgence and more his growing embarrassment. 

“You’re destructive. I _like_ that in mechs,” Brainstorm says. His servo has dropped to lay on the table again, giving Whirl an eyeful of the intensity he’s stared at with. There’s desire there too, and love, so much love, he’s forced to avert his gaze. Er, he makes an attempt; that is to say, Brainstorm’s servos clamp around his optic casing and keep him frozen in place. His voice lowers to a purr. _Oh no_. 

“Unpredictable, too. There’s not a boring day with you. But, y’know what? Underneath all that, uh,” Brainstorm trails off. His optic-ridges knit together, creasing in a frown. Relief briefly washes over Whirl but is soon replaced with cold dread.

Someone from the bar shouts, “Take your time!” and Whirl dearly wishes he’d have used his holo-avatar so he could flip them the bird. 

Brainstorm is sufficiently encouraged to continue. He’s now holding one of Whirl’s pinchers quite tenderly, stroking over the smooth metal. Whirl shivers at the contact. 

“I think you’re pretty neat. You’re soft under all that, yeah? You care!” He’s smiling. Goofily. There’s an allure in that, but Whirl is preoccupied with his own thoughts. Trying to astral project himself out of the situation.

“Brain- _Brainy_ , that’s enough-” he stammers. Whirl isn’t used to such genuine admissions of love and adoration, even from the mech that has openly admitted to loving him before. It’s different, he reasons with himself. It’s different ‘cause they’re in public. Sure, he likes to laugh at Cyclonus when it’s Tailgate inflicting this sort of thing on him, or Ratchet when it’s Drift, but him? That sucks all the fun out of it. He might even start- _barf -_ sympathizing with his comrades! 

Brainstorm gives him a puzzled look. He pulls back his servos, awkwardly fidgeting at his sides. He looks dejected and it makes Whirl feel guilty. “...Why?” He asks, shifting in his seat. “Do you not… you know?” Brainstorm gestures between the two of them. “Like me… like that?” 

Whirl blanches. 

“Brainstorm,” he begins in hushed tones as if it isn’t already public knowledge. “ _We’re… a thing_.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“ _Oh_.” 

The scientist giggles. He’s laughing a minute in, utterly hysterical, coolant running down his optics. Before Whirl can get a word in he promptly collapses on the table and passes out.

* * *

Brainstorm wakes with a groan. His processor is killing him; even the simple act of trying to online his optics puts an unnecessary amount of strain on it. He’s vaguely aware of light seeping in through the corners of his vision and sends the command to offline them entirely. He only risks cracking open one dimmed optic when he’s shrouded in comfortable darkness and realizes he’s pressed up against another frame. 

Cold, he thinks. _Nice_. So he nuzzles Whirl. (At least, he _assumes_ it’s Whirl.) 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Whirl purrs. One pincher settles on his helm and pats him condescendingly. “You pulled quite the stunt! Had me _worried_ for a sec there, about you having memory loss and all.” 

Brainstorm frowns. Yes, the events of last night are a blur, but…? 

He groans. He’s _thinking_ too much, and it’s hurting his already throbbing head. 

Whirl chuckles. “Well, at least now you know that anti-overcharge ‘cure’ of yours worked! You were _very_ clear. Never doubted ya to provide me with a laugh.” 

Yet, somehow, Brainstorm feels as if a laugh isn’t the only thing he provided his mate with; there’s something affectionate about their closeness, and the fact Whirl is still stroking his aching helm. 

He offlines his optics again. He’ll find out what happened later. For now, he just needs rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
